


Music

by RinzlersGhost



Series: Holiday Prompt Fics [6]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:34:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28340235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RinzlersGhost/pseuds/RinzlersGhost
Summary: Prompt 12 is Music. You are a human in Imladris during the celebration of Turuhalme. Somehow, even in the spirit of community, it gets lonely.
Relationships: Lindir/Gender Neutral Reader
Series: Holiday Prompt Fics [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2075340
Kudos: 7





	Music

**Author's Note:**

> Mellon-nin - my friend

Music was so very crucial to the elves. It told stories. It told of legends. It wasn’t so far apart from your human traditions, you thought. Certainly, elves didn’t really understand what you had meant when you said music was crucial to human life. It wasn’t a need or a survival tactic. Still you had found yourself drawn to the minstrels playing their harps, lyres, and flutes, particularly during Turuhalme.

Yes, music was crucial to mortal life. Music and art were so very intertwined. There was something so delicate about what the elves created-- fragile songs designed to carry on stories, things that made no room for mistake or error. You had tried to learn the harp yourself, but that had not come easily, and you would rather give it up than get frustrated and break something.

Still, while the night was still young and the winter still new, you slipped away from the festivities, walking down to the sea. You missed your home on nights like this. You missed your traditions on nights like this. You were but a mortal among immortals. What hope could you ever have in sharing your voice, your soul?

You chose the rocky crags that pointed out to the sea, sea foam washing up close to your feet and a salty spray hitting your face. You tried to remember the old christmas songs, finding your voice and pouring everything you had ever bottled up into it.

You didn’t know your voice could be heard over the whole of Imladris. Many stopped their songs, stopped their dancing to listen. Lindir drew in a sharp breath, glancing to Elrond in surprise where he found that the elf-lord’s expression was lost in thought, gazing out to the sea beyond the forests.

“Y/N.” Was the only word that Elrond uttered. Lindir thought it might be easy to be overwhelmed by Elvish traditions. He was sometimes, and he had been a part of them for centuries.

“I didn’t know they could sing.” Lindir murmured.

“Perhaps that is what they meant when they said that music is crucial to mortal life. It is not tradition. It is art. It is a part of life as much needed as the air they breathe.” Elrond replied. “I can hear the sadness, the anger, the hurt, the sorrow... all wrapped into their voice. Y/N is hurting. This is no celebration for them. Perhaps... we have not included them enough, or made them feel welcome among our kind.” When he looked to the place Lindir had been occupying, the minstrel was gone.

You heard the movement behind you but paid it no mind. The last echoes of your songs were trailing across the Valley. You sighed softly, finally taking a seat and watching the tide retreat. “You sing beautifully.” Lindir. You knew his voice anywhere.

“Are you just going to stand there or would you like a seat?” You asked. His footsteps were soon beside you and he was soon sitting next to you. “Didn’t mean to interrupt your celebration.”

“You aren’t a burden, Y/N.” Lindir murmured. He got a dry laugh out of you, your head leaning on his shoulder. “I’m sorry that we haven’t been very... receptive to the idea that you might have a different idea of celebration.”

“Oh, it’s not that.” You replied, finding his hand and tracing a pattern across it. “I just miss home. I miss... my traditions. I miss my people. I see your Turuhalme and the spirit of community that comes with it and find myself being... lonely.”

“Would you like someone to celebrate with you?” Lindir asked.

“Oh, I couldn’t...” You started, but he just took your hand in his own.

“It’s no fun if not sharing it, right?” Lindir murmured.

“You’re too sweet,  _ mellon-nin.” _ You replied quietly, humming a song beneath your breath and it wasn’t long before his own voice joined in with yours, harmonizing sweetly.


End file.
